The Coffee Countdown

*There's a spoiler alert that you might want to read first just in case you don't like the subject area of this post*

Here are some quick facts about me that I am sure I have already mentioned before:

-  I would equate my metabolism to the phenomenon of the nutrient grab that takes place when a plant dies in the rainforest. My body absorbs food 20x faster than it should which means I am a food vacuum that is never satisfied.
-  I don't drink coffee because mentally I am 4 years old and what's worse than giving children sugar infused coffee? For this reason I usually stick to unsweetend teas - semisweet if someone manages my sugar intake.

You would think that 4ish years of college would have taught me the finer points of coffee-ism, by which I would already be a connoisseur and could taste the difference between Guatemalan and English brews (or at least caffeinated and decaffeinated)

With that, I shall enlighten you on what happens when I ignorantly convince myself that I NEED coffee in order to stay up for a 4-hour shift after a sleepless night. This whole process took about 45 minutes and I am currently in the hangover portions of post-caffeinated life. I DON'T LIKE IT!

10: I arrive at my internship early because I know it will take me at least 15 minutes to figure out how to conjure an 8-ounce mug of coffee. I opened the top of the machine to release a whiff of the previous batch made earlier by someone much more accomplished than me. There was still some grounds left in the filter but I wasn't sure if old and new coffee grounds were like old and new money - they don't mix well. I asked the only other non-coffee drinker for help and we were both perplexed. EXPERIMENT TIME! I had a slight heart attack when the only bag I found contained whole beans (what the WHAT!?! Is that even legal to sell in 'Murica?) but was relieved to find a normal bag full of ground up goodness.

9: While waiting for my serving of alertness to filter, I become surprisingly alert for my current sleep deprived self. It was almost as if the promise of coffee was enough caffeine for me to function. I should have listened. Nonetheless, I made myself a cup-o-joe when the time came.

And I was left alone. In the kitchen. With sugar.

So naturally I poured about 4 tablespoons in with an unhealthy serving of french vanilla creamer. Tis unhealthy  because I am still allergic to milk.

8: I drink all of the coffee in less than 3 minutes. It isn't as though I had a trough to begin with, but as I stated before about my physical characteristics, I process food WAY too fast, including a regulated drug such as caffeine which was in the beginning stages of my demise.

7: 17 minutes post coffee down I continue my work as usual forgetting that I just downed my biggest food mistake since the Thai food debacle of 2012. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary, in fact, I wasn't suffering from my mid day I'm-going-to-die-because-I-haven't-eaten-yet ritual. I was even communicating with my co-workers in a non-awkward manner. Everything was going swimmingly until...

6: ...midway though a sentence that I was fully aware that I was making, reality began to fade away as I realized I could feel my internal organs. They weren't doing anything in particular or even worth paying attention to, but coffee thought otherwise. I'm not even sure how that conversation ended. I just sank down into my chair.

I've made a huge mistake. And it would only get worse.

5: I tried to get back to my work because that was what the focus juice was for anyway - focusing. However, as I tried to revise a particularly important document I had been working on for a later meeting, the screen began to get blurry and I found myself squinting - just to squint. My body was shutting down.

4: With productivity at a daily low, I chose to give myself a minute to get a handle on the situation. This just turned into realizing how aware I was of the hairs on my arm which stood at full attention. That wasn't helping. I thought if I informed my mom - the only person who knows I shouldn't drink anything stronger than apple juice - about my condition she would be able to help. The following conversation transpired via text:

Me: I JUST HAD COFFEEEE!!!!
Mom: Oh noooooooooo
Me: My heart is a dragon song!!!!!

Note, I have no idea what that means

3: By this time I'm sure my mom had alerted the local authorities that a monster had just been born in the downtown area of our highly populated city, so I would soon be getting the help I needed. But not before my meeting.

2: I enter the room shaking out of excitement. IT'S A MEETING YAY I thought. I almost shouted it but thankfully my actions were stifled by the actual content of the meeting. I did my best to not tap, dance, or blurt out random exclamations as the business of it all took place. I just had to last about an hour and then I could go outside and roundhouse kick the caffeine out of my body. Then something amazing happened. I was beginning to awaken into a normal human being, defying the spell that caffeine had cast upon my soul. The meeting was almost done and I could feel the sweet relief of normality return, colors began to stabilize and the urge to burst out as one does in a musical began to subside. I was released from the grips of hyperactivity  and it only took about 30 minutes. Everything was going right in the world! That is until...

1: That demon coffee decided it needed out of my body. NOW! It must have taken a detour on the path of digestion because I was sure this process should have taken at the very least 2 hours.

 I'm sure other coffee drinkers are accustomed to this final step, so I beg the question WHY DRINK IT!?! It produces sweaty, jumpy, and mind altered work zombies that actually barely get work done.

The only thing my tortured body can do now is nap so goodnight and don't EVER invite me to starbucks. I've learned my lesson.






*P.S. Sorry it's a story that ends with poop.* :/